


Weather Where You Are

by Heronfem



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anniversary, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Future Fic, Love, M/M, Volleyball Dorks in Love, post college
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-04-20 15:48:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14264388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heronfem/pseuds/Heronfem
Summary: Hanamaki and Matsukawa have a history of really, really awful luck on their anniversaries. Hanamaki's determined this year will be the best one yet.Too bad the universe doesn't want to throw him a bone and make that easy.





	Weather Where You Are

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to Cheesy, who suggested the prompt of "anniversary". This was way too fun.

The thing is.

Well. 

The thing is, Hanamaki Takahiro has spent the better part of the past eight years stupidly in love. Even when it was ugly, or rough, or involved questionable decisions to move to strange cities with unknown qualities of bakery, he's been unabashed about being in love. For the past five of those years, to the day, he has been in a wonderful relationship with a charming man who made things beautiful, smoothed things out, and taste tested no less than twelve different bakeries and sorted them by category so that his “darling 'Hiro” would have an easier time. 

Matsukawa Issei is his favorite person, and he is _late_.

It is, unfortunately, not surprising. 

Kita Ward, Tokyo, is a pleasant place to live. There are nice parks, reasonable prices for housing, not unreasonable walks to buses or trains, and it's decently close to Issei's building for work. It is not, however, near Tokyo International Airport, which Takahiro is willing to bet is the reason for his charming, wonderful boyfriend's tardiness. It takes, at minimum, an hour to get from Haneda to their apartment, regardless of what transportation they use. An hour, at minimum, because something will always go wrong. Getting from the bottom of Ota ward to the middle of Kita ward takes time, and while Issei has texted him to inform him that his plane landed in one piece (already two hours behind schedule because of the delay getting out of Manila due to weather), he cannot move time or the universe any faster.

And Issei's forbidden him to keep meeting him at the airport, because _reasons_ , which means Takahiro is a ball of nerves in their nice apartment, where he has dinner set out and candles lit and is trying very, very hard not to be upset because his boyfriend is _late_ to their anniversary dinner.

They've historically had very shitty anniversaries. It's just a thing, at this point, but Takahiro had been determined that this year will break the streak and they'll have a good time. 

Except, then there was a business trip in France announced, and Matsukawa Issei speaks French (like the nerd he is, god Takahiro loves him), and his boss practically blackmailed him into going. So the two weeks prior to their anniversary Takahiro had been all alone in Tokyo except for his 30 best friends and Oikawa (Iwaizumi of course included in the 30). But Takahiro made the best of it, got lots of work done, cleaned the place top to bottom, prepared a whole dinner menu and practiced the fine art of chicken cordon bleu as that was Issei's request for the main course. He doesn't want to say the word “lonely” but. Well. That's what he's been. And of course, because it was their anniversary and nothing _ever_ goes right on their anniversary, instead of flying in the day before and allowing them to have a whole day to themselves, Issei's flight gets delayed while he's sitting in Charles de Gaulle International Airport.

Takahiro, having been taken through Charles de Gaulle International Airport during the 3rd years graduation trip to Paris and not impressed then, is now convinced that the place is built on top of a Hellmouth.

So now, with Issei's flight having finally landed on a rainy and miserable Tokyo at 6:27PM, Takahiro waits while sitting at their table and stares at candles. 

Fuck, their anniversary is always just _so bad_. They need to start celebrating a different day. Or maybe it was just the concept of celebrating in general? 

He unlocks his phone, looking at the time. 8:37PM. No texts, no calls. Just the one from when Issei landed.

It's not hugely uncommon. Issei is notorious for getting lost if he doesn't pay close attention to his location, so he tends not to be on his phone while traveling, even if it's just on the bus. But Takahiro feels like shit from another failed anniversary celebration, and wants to know where he is.

**Text to: Best Boy**  
hey babe  
you should come over  
my parents aren't home. (But I am and I miss you, how far from home are you?)

The messages launch themselves into the electronic aether, and then inform him with little tags on the bottom that the weren't delivered. 

Oh, joy. So Issei's phone is off. 

Takahiro pours a healthy glass of wine (a very nice Pinot Noir, thank you very much) and is debating how much of it is acceptable to down in one go when he hears the key in the lock. Delighted, he jumps to his feet and is heading for the genkan when the door opens to reveal his beautiful, wonderful boyfriend-

Who is absolutely drenched and looks like he's been run over by a herd of elephants, twice. 

“I have had the _worst day_ ,” Issei says, his voice trembling as he closes the door and shoves his suitcase to the side. “The train was out of service, and my flight was late, and I thought I lost my bags at the airport, and a car splashed me and got my shoes and socks wet, and the bus was busy, and it started raining and I didn't have an umbrella and I got _soaked_ and my phone died when I tried to call you and I wanted to make it to dinner because you were trying so _fucking_ hard to make this a good one-”

“Oh god, babe, are you crying?” Takahiro asks, alarmed, and Issei lets out a wordless screech of upset that makes him jump.

Issei is in fact crying, enormous fat tears rolling down his face. His eyes, normally sleepy and half closed, are wide and upset and welling with tears.

“Oh, fuck, sweetheart. C'mere,” Takahiro says, heart melting, and pulls him into a hug. The endearments fall off his tongue without thought, what was once a joke between them now precious and shared only between the walls of the apartment in sincerity. Issei buries his face in his shoulder, hugging him back so tight his ribs hurt. Issei is truly soaked, and Takahiro is getting wet but he can't bring himself to care because at least his man is home. He presses his face against Issei's hair, listening to him sniffle. He's a great hulking rock of a man, rarely letting things get to him, but sometimes even he has to break down. Issei's meltdowns are few and far between, and usually they don't last very long. Takahiro kisses his wet hair, holding him close.

“It's okay,” he croons, “you're here now, right? You're here, and I'm here, and we can still have dinner.”

“I missed you so bad,” Issei mumbles into his shoulder, not letting go. “I missed you _so bad_ and the whole world seemed like it was out to get me today and my _stupid_ phone died and I hate everything in the whole world except for you and that noise that cats make when you touch them and they wake up.”

“Aww, babe.”

“I'm never going abroad again,” Issei says, lifting his head up. His eyes are puffy from crying, and Takahiro is an absolute puddle of sympathy as he rubs away at the tear tracks on his cheeks. “Never again, not without you. I'll fucking quit my job if they ask me to do this shit again.”

Takahiro decides it's probably best not to tell him that his idea seems a bit over the top while he's still so upset, and instead kisses his forehead. “Go shower and warm up, I'll throw these wet clothes in the laundry and we'll have dinner under the kotatsu and watch whatever you want.”

“I love you more than life itself,” Issei says fervently. “Were I not pretty sure I'm developing hypothermia, I would take you right here in the genkan.”

“Wow, Issei, tell me how you really feel,” Takahiro says, unable to help his grin, and Issei kisses him. It's heated and passionate and _home_ , and Takahiro's hands wander up to hold him there. 

“I fucking _love you_ ,” Issei repeats when he pulls back, finally looking like he's calmed back down. “And we're watching Naruto.”

Takahiro laughs, fond, and Issei begins shucking his clothes off. The coat gets hung up, the rest go into Takahiro's hands before he heads off to the shower in glorious full nudity. He's perfectly tan, of course, and Takahiro spares a moment to roll his eyes at the show of vanity. Fucking French nude beaches, the man was supposed to be on a business trip, not vacation. Their apartment is one of the rare ones with a dryer, and while they don't use it often it's very useful in the winter. Takahiro makes his way to the dryer, tossing the things inside as the shower turns on. The kotatsu is retrieved from where's been living in Takahiro's office closet and brought to the living area. It doesn't take much to do some simple rearranging, sliding the loveseat over and opening it up (bless convertible furniture that doubles as storage) to pull out the blanket and the pillows for the floor. 

The food gets moved to the table as it heats up the blanket, the TV turned on, and Takahiro goes to their bedroom to switch into a pair of comfortable pajamas instead. 

He's just returned to the living area when Issei emerges from the bathroom, toweling his hair dry and still bare as the day he was born.

Takahiro whistles, and Issei grins at him.

“Don't think I didn't notice how even that tan is,” Takahiro says, giving him a slow once over in appreciation, and Issei laughs. He and Iwaizumi are still gym buddies, meaning Issei is built like a fucking brick, and Takahiro never gets tired of the view. Issei works hard to keep his body in the shape he wants, after all. Takahiro's simply appreciating the fruits of his labor. 

“Yeah, yeah...” 

He looks much happier, and Takahiro's heart eases a little. He hates seeing him sad. 

“Can you blame me though? It was so warm, and the beaches were so nice.” Issei disappears into their bedroom, speaking up so Takahiro can still hear him. “I went all by myself and only got lost twice.”

Takahiro grins. “So you _didn't_ go with your boss?”

Issei yelps in horror, and Takahiro laughs. He reemerges from the room in his most comfortable pajamas and soft socks, and makes a bee-line for the kotatsu. 

They curl up under the blanket, using the loveseat as a back and pulling another blanket around their shoulders. Issei practically burrows into his arms and nuzzles against his neck. He's wonderfully warm from the shower, hair springing up in random curls as it dries uneaven, and Takahiro can't help kissing his forehead. 

“God, you're cute,” he says, and Issei huffs out a laugh. 

“Look who's talking. I'm the reacher, here.”

“Shut the fuck your face, Matsukawa Issei, I'll have you know that _I_ got the better deal.” 

“Lies, clearly it's me, because _I_ got to come home to my multiple award-winning historical fiction novelist boyfriend who's an absolute badass writer in three languages,” Issei says, smug, and Takahiro grins. “And he made me dinner.”

“That he did.” Takahiro grins as Issei kisses his cheek, lips lingering there.

“Today was so bad,” Issei mumbles, looking like he's back to normal. Takahiro strokes his hair, tangling his fingers in its waves. “I wanted today to be good, after how bad it was last year. God, last year was such a nightmare. And the year before that, and the year before _that_. We've got shitty anniversary luck.”

“Hey, at least it wasn't us who set a pinata on fire and forced an evacuation.”

“No, just our probably-yakuza neighbor and his possibly-a-serial-killer boyfriend. I don't miss that building.”

“Same.” Takahiro kisses his forehead, and Issei exhales heavily. “Hey, babe, it's okay. We're okay. It doesn't matter what kind of day it is on the anniversary itself so long as the other 364 days of the year we're happily together and laughing and eating bad takeout. Or really well made chicken cordon bleu, which, you're welcome.”

“You're right,” Issei says, smiling. “And thanks.”

Takahiro kisses his forehead again. “Happy anniversary you big lump, I love you so much it's embarrassing.”

“Happy anniversary, 'Hiro.” Issei leans into him even more, and laughs as Takahiro flails and falls over. 

“I want a divorce,” Takahiro tells him, laughing as Issei peppers kisses all over his face and slides his hands under his shirt to rub over his sensitive sides. “Issei!”

Issei grins at him, and bends down to kiss him slow and warm. Takahiro melts, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend to hold him there. 5 long years of proper dating, 3 of crushing before that... Despite how awful the day had started, today's turned out okay after all. 

Issei pulls back, his smile wide. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Takahiro parrots back, reaching up to tug on his still damp curls. “Are we watching the Chunin exam arc again?”

“You're a man after my own heart, sweet thing.”

Issei helps him up, gets the show started, and they dig into dinner. For all the waiting he's done, it's turned out okay. The chicken cordon bleu is delicious, the asparagus is a little dry but still flavorful, the Pinot Noir is delicious even when drunk out of their regular cups instead of fancy wine glasses, the au gratin potatoes are rich and tasty, and Issei is warm beside him under the kotatsu. 

“Y'know,” Takahiro says, popping one of the (store bought, he isn't that good) eclairs in his mouth, “I think we can call this one a success-”

Which is when with a mighty crack of thunder, the power goes out and they're plunged into darkness. 

“Dammit,” he mutters as Issei starts to laugh. “Oh my god, shut up.”

Issei _howls_ with laughter, falling over as he devolves into mirth. Takahiro shakes his head, but the laughter is contagious and he just can't help it as he starts laughing too. It's just too ridiculous. The stress of the day falls away at the sight of Issei's tears of laughter, and Takahiro rests his arm on the kotatsu and marvels that he gets to see his best friend laugh like this every single day if he wants. A hopeless, fond sort of love wells up in him, delight mingling with pure, uncomplicated happiness.

Once Issei has himself back under control and sits up, still grinning, Takahiro leans over to kiss him.

“Well,” he says, “since our evening entertainment's been derailed, want to make some entertainment of our own?”

Issei flutters his eyelashes. “I thought you'd never ask.”

Takahiro gets up, Issei close behind, and whoops in surprise as Issei scoops him off his feet and into his arms. 

“Oh, my hero!”

“That's me,” Issei says cheerfully, and Takahiro is so in love with him it's painful. 

He laughs when Issei practically tosses him onto their bed, back hitting the obscene amount of pillows in it, and reaches out for him. Issei joins him, catching his lips in a kiss and pressing him down to smother him with yet more kisses until he's giggling and Issei looks pleased with himself.

“Okay, so,” Takahiro says, a little breathless and still smiling. “Maybe today was shit and maybe nothing went as planned. But you know what?”

“What?” Issei asks him, reaching up to cup Takahiro's cheek with one sturdy, stupidly huge hand.

“Matsukawa Issei, love of my life, stars of my sky, fires of my loins-”

“Fucking hell, babe-”

“I wouldn't trade a moment with you for anything else in this whole goddamn universe,” Takahiro barrels on. “And yes, that includes unlimited pastry delights so hold the sass.”

Issei's eyes go soft and happy, and he bends down to kiss him once more. It feels like an exhalation, a settling into comfortable clothes. Safety and warmth, a _welcome home_. 

“Ditto.”

Takahiro barks out a laugh. “Did you just 'ditto' my confession of undying love you?”

Issei just grins. 

It is, they agree later, the best of their anniversaries.

**Author's Note:**

> (Definitely-not-yakuza guy and possibly-a-serial-killer boyfriend went on to have a perfectly lovely relationship that definitely did not involve any dead bodies. At all. Plausible deniability, what's that? DNY guy has a magnificent art career and is showcased in many different galleries across the world. PASK boyfriend is very supportive, and DNY guy is very proud of his man's chemistry degree and, uh. hobbies. 
> 
> Mattsun and Makki still don't know how the two got their new address to invite them to their destination wedding in the Caymans, but they stick the invite on the fridge anyway.
> 
> "Why the Caymans?" Mattsun wonders.
> 
> Makki considers the picture, eyes narrowed. "Tax evasion? And possibly money laundering by throwing the party?"
> 
> "Yeah, that'd do it."
> 
> They go anyway, have a great time, and nobody dies.
> 
> "Definitely money laundering," Makki says thoughtfully while examining his perfectly even tan.)
> 
> \--
> 
> Comments feed my soul, and you can find me at either heronfem or maneazu on tumblr! Seriously though these two are so dang hard to write.


End file.
